


To the Sun

by blacktofade



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Kid Fic, Miscommunication, Multi, Past Relationship(s), Polyamory, Reunions, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-18 23:07:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20647199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacktofade/pseuds/blacktofade
Summary: Life is weird. Ten years afterUnsolvedends, Shane’s married with a kid and Ryan accidentally bumps into him at a gas station in Illinois.





	To the Sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sarcasticfishes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticfishes/gifts).

> Dearest Fie, from the tags alone you should be able to recognize this as that one idea we had that almost broke us both. I risked my entire life to write this. Also, I've been working on this for over a month — do you know how hard it was to keep secret?? Happy birthday, salt baby! Hope you enjoy! ♥
> 
> Title is from this very specific rendition of [Demon Days](https://youtu.be/iZs2sVlkiQc?t=132) because I've been listening to it nonstop.

The last thing Ryan expects to see is a familiar face when he's halfway through pushing open the door to the gas station. It's not even just the face that sets off alarms in his brain, it's the general tallness and the slightly lumbering movements he used to know all too well.

His hair is patched through with gray and there are more frown lines than he remembers when they last met, but it's still him. It's still Shane.

Shane glances his way, almost reflexively at the sound of the jingle, and then immediately double-takes and drops a handful of quarters that ping comically loud off the floor.

"_Dad_," says a small voice, the word drawn out like a complaint, and from behind Shane's legs emerges a kid that can't be much older than five or six. "You're so embarrassing."

She's the spitting image of Sara — eyes green and soulful, hair a mess of close ringlets — and Ryan's whole world tilts to one side without his permission.

"Shane?" he asks, though he knows he doesn't need to. It's definitely him.

"Ryan," Shane says, and he sounds almost as shocked, a hand automatically dropping down to the girl's head like he's double checking she's still there but can't bring himself to look away.

The silence grows awkwardly between them, stretching thin like a bubble of gum until it gets too large and finally pops. Sounds finally rush back in and Ryan belatedly realizes there's someone trying to get past him in the doorway.

"Sorry," he mumbles, stepping aside, still unable to look away until Shane finally blinks and shakes his head like he's trying to clear it.

"Sir?" the cashier — a bored looking teen — asks. "You still owe forty cents."

"You dropped it all over the floor," Shane's kid says with a laugh, already stooping to pick it up, her fingers tiny but insistent.

Shane reaches into his pocket and tosses a dollar onto the counter out of her sight and by the time she's done, offering what appears to be a quarter and a couple of dimes, he's already got his change and receipt.

"How about you keep that for your piggy bank at home," Shane murmurs and she looks up at him like he's hung the moon.

"Really?"

"Sure, kiddo. Keep it safe."

She tucks the money into her pocket, the smile on her face so wide it looks painful. "Can we count it on Saturday after we go to the park?"

Shane makes a distracted noise of affirmation as he reaches to grab the Icee from the counter and hand it to her, and it seems like she might topple over from all the excitement as she gets her mouth on the straw and immediately begins drinking.

"Save some for Mom," Shane reminds her and keeps her close as he takes a step towards Ryan. "Hey."

Ryan doesn't know what to do with _hey_. _Hey _doesn't work after over ten years of separation, stumbling back together unexpectedly in a gas station, miles away from home.

"Hi," Ryan replies gently, his mind feeling like it's nothing but white noise, over which he can barely hear Shane.

"What are you doing here?"

"Uh, business," Ryan admits after a moment to gather his thoughts. "I've been in town for work for a few weeks. You?"

"We live here," Shane tells him, a hand brushing the mop of curls on his daughter's head and Ryan belated realizes he knows that. He got the wedding invite a decade prior. It had been something small, intimate, out by Lake Michigan, not long after Shane and Sara had moved back East.

Ryan hadn't gone, but he'd seen photos.

"You should come by for dinner," Shane continues like their history means nothing. "Sara will want to see you."

"I don't — " Ryan starts, glancing down at where Shane's kid now has a mouth stained cherry-red and she's clearly trying to drink as much as possible before she's caught. He meets Shane's gaze again. "That's not a good idea."

"Please," Shane tries, and it's so unlike anything he'd say back when they used to work at BuzzFeed that Ryan barely recognizes him. This isn't the Shane in his thirties, encouraging Ryan to do something terrible on video because it'll be funny. This is the Shane in his mid-forties, who has laugh lines all over his face, who is married and has a daughter, and has settled into a gentle life in Chicago.

It's the same Shane he has history with, but it's the Shane he might be able to learn to have a present with again, too.

"Who are you?" a voice asks boldly from below, and Ryan looks back down to find Shane's daughter has finally stopped drinking long enough to speak. It catches him off guard, and he glances at Shane, needing him to take the lead on this one.

"Charlie, this is Ryan," Shane says gently, but she doesn't seem impressed.

"Ryan who?"

"Bergara," Ryan tells her, but Charlie just looks at Shane without recognition, and Ryan gets the sudden suspicion he's never made it into any of their conversations.

Ryan smiles tight lipped at Shane, trying to convey an air of _this is why I can't come over_, but Shane sighs and rubs the back of his neck.

Staring down at Charlie and pointedly ignoring Ryan's gaze, he says, "It's Ghoul Man."

Charlie's entire posture shifts, her eyes becoming as wide as saucers as she stares at Ryan like he's suddenly the only thing that matters.

"_Ghoul Man_?" she asks excitedly. "From the stories?"

"Yeah, Plum, from the stories."

He's still refusing to meet Ryan's gaze and Ryan's heart trips into double-time, his chest feeling tighter.

"I'm Charlie," she says, suddenly stepping closer, her head tilted back to look up at him. "Dad says you know how to catch ghosts. You used to hunt them together, right? Can you teach me?"

For years, he carefully built defences around his heart, knowing exactly how to keep from getting hurt by either Shane or Sara, but he doesn't know how to defend himself against a tiny kid who looks like both of them, who seems so positively delighted at the possibility that he can teach her something that she's practically vibrating with excitement.

"_Dad_, tell him to teach me."

"Charlie," Shane warns gently. "Be polite."

"But it's _Ghoul Man, Dad_."

Shane rubs his face and finally looks at Ryan. "I only have myself to blame."

Ryan's chest tightens a little more. "You told her about Unsolved?"

"I made them kid-friendly," he admits. "I got fed up with rereading the first Harry Potter book to her at night."

"He told me about _all of them_, Ghoul Man."

"_Ryan_," Shane corrects, but this time it's with a laugh.

"Ghoul Man Ryan," Charlie tries and honestly it's close enough that Ryan can't even be annoyed. Shane's eyes crinkle in the corners as he stares down at her fondly.

"You must be pretty brave," Ryan tells her with a soft smile and Charlie immediately nods.

"Dad says when I'm older we can go hunting together. You can come with us."

"That's kind of you," Ryan says, but he looks at Shane to judge his reaction. He doesn't seem ruffled.

"How about we start with dinner first, Charlie," Shane replies smoothly and it's a low blow, using his kid to lure Ryan in, but Ryan can't stay mad, not with how Charlie seems to light up even more.

"Can we have meatloaf?" Charlie asks immediately,and Ryan gets the feeling the food is an important aspect of Charlie's idea of an exciting night. She must take after Shane more than he originally thought. "Can he meet Obi?"

Ryan blinks in surprise. "You still have Obi?"

Shane laughs lightly. "He's fifteen this year. He guards Charlie at night."

"He sleeps right here," Charlie says, patting the space beside her shoulder and neck. "Sometimes he drools on me."

"Yeah, he doesn't have many teeth left, but he's enjoying retired life. You'll see him if you stop by."

Ryan's truly trapped. He can't say no now and it's clear Shane knows he's backed him into a corner.

"Tomorrow's Friday," Shane points out. "Why don't you come by in the evening and we'll wine and dine you."

Shane seems to realize almost immediately that he's used the wrong phrase because he adds, "It'll be fun — just a nice family dinner."

Ryan glances one last time at Charlie and knows he's standing right at the edge of the cliff of his own bad decisions.

"Please," she says and Ryan smiles and feels himself take that final step off the ledge.

"Sure," he says gently. "That sounds good."

Shane smiles back and Ryan knows he needs all the strength he can get.

*

Shane texts him an address around noon the next day. It's a different number than the one Ryan still has in his phone and it feels strange updating his contact information.

It's even stranger that evening when he works his way through five or six different shirts from his suitcase, trying to find something casual but not too casual. He needs something that will help hide how much he's sweating. He ends up settling for something light with a small floral print and short sleeves. It's the one he usually wears for dates, but he refuses to linger on that thought.

On the way over, he stops at a grocery store to grab a bottle of wine and a small bouquet of flowers, and then heads into the suburbs. It's a surprisingly short drive and it's an odd feeling knowing he's been so close for so long without realizing.

He parks on the street outside a comfortable looking two storey house that is apparently theirs and sits with the AC blowing on him until he feels less like he's drowning in sweat.

There are a handful of small toys abandoned in the grass of the front yard, clearly from Charlie, and in the driveway it looks like they've upgraded to a Subaru. It's oddly quaint in a way he doesn't expect and isn't prepared for.

Standing on their porch, he takes a deep, steadying breath and then rings the doorbell.

There's yelling from inside that sounds too high-pitched to be anyone but Charlie, and it's accompanied by the low barking of a dog. Ryan didn't know they were dog people, but maybe things have changed.

The door opens and Ryan braces for impact, but there's nothing. Just the soft, smiling face of Sara looking almost exactly the way he remembers. Her hair is a little longer and it's the kind of brown that comes from the salon, but she looks so good that Ryan finds himself at a loss for words.

"Hey, Ryan," she says gently, opening her arms, and Ryan goes without a second of hesitation, folding down around her like that's all he can remember to do.

She's so warm against him, smelling vaguely of honeysuckle, and Ryan thinks he could die right then and there and be completely content.

"How are you?" she asks, finally drawing away, and it takes a moment for Ryan to come back to himself.

"I'm good," he says honestly, and not like that's just something he's telling himself. "You've been busy."

He means the house, the kid, the yellow labrador that comes barrelling down the hallway at the sound of his voice.

"Come in, quick," she says with a laugh, "or he'll knock you on your ass."

Ryan does as he's told, toeing off his shoes at the threshold and nudging them amongst the variety of ones already there — big, brown oxfords, small, sparkly pink sneakers with velcro, a pair of flip-flops that have seen better days.

"_Sit_," she says sharply and it takes Ryan a moment to realize she's talking to the dog and not him. "His name's Bear. We're dog-sitting for one of Shane's coworkers."

Ryan stares down at Bear, who pants happily, his butt wiggling as he wags his tail, even while sitting. Ryan pets his head gently and he slobbers on his wrist in return with a big, wet lick.

“_Ghoul Man_!” a shrill voice yells, startling him back a step as footsteps against the hardwood floor thunder in their direction. Bear trots off in the opposite direction, as though already knowing what to expect, and Charlie skids into view.

“_Charlie_,” Sara warns. “What have I told you?”

“No running in the house,” Charlie recites like she’s heard it a million times before and is now entirely unfazed. “But it’s _Ghoul Man_, Mom!”

“His name is _Ryan_,” Sara corrects and Ryan shrugs.

“It’s okay,” he tells her, but she shakes her head.

“It’ll be endless if she doesn’t stop now.”

“I think it’s catchy,” Shane says, heading towards them. He looks devastating in a trendy dad kind of way and Ryan never thought he’d be into it, but he supposes this week has been full of surprises.

“Did you pick it?” Ryan asks and Shane shrugs.

“I might have suggested a few things, but it was all Charlie.”

Ryan laughs, not believing him for a second.

"You said that's what he likes being called," Charlie says and Ryan laughs even harder.

"Called out, big man," he jokes, and it seems entirely natural to go back to ribbing Shane, even after so long.

Shane grins and gestures with his head. "Come in and roast me in the kitchen with the rest of the food so I can keep an eye on dinner."

"Dad made meatloaf because he promised," Charlie says, running ahead of them, but not even Sara rebukes her this time.

"C'mon," she says fondly, her hand warm on Ryan's elbow as she leads the way through the house.

*

Almost immediately, Sara opens the wine Ryan brought, pouring them each a glass and handing one over to Ryan who's sitting at the neatly laid table.

His gaze keeps flitting between where Shane's mashing potatoes by the stove and where Sara's trimming the ends of the flowers Ryan brought before rearranging them in a deep vase.

Charlie sits beside him, shifting restlessly like she's already been warned to be on her best behavior but is secretly dying to ask Ryan a million questions. Beneath the table, Bear has fallen asleep with his head on Ryan's left foot.

Ryan can't remember the last time he felt so comfortable just by being in the presence of other people. He thought the night would be awkward and filled with stilted conversation, but they seem to slot back into place in Ryan's life like they never even left.

Sara sets the vase of flowers in the window behind the sink and then moves to sit across from him, wine glass balanced between gently-aged fingers.

"Shane says you're here for work?" she asks carefully. "What are you doing these days?"

"I'm with Warner Brothers," he admits and Shane laughs.

"Did they finally realize you could have been the best damn intern they've ever had?"

"Something like that," Ryan agrees with a smile. "I'm out here scouting for the next few months."

"_Months_?" Sara asks incredulously. "That's a long time away from home."

Ryan shrugs. "Home is now the Extended Stay America over by O'Hare. Who knew that spending all my time in my twenties ripping on Chicago would get me stuck here somehow."

"You must miss your partner," Sara says, but she's clearly not fooling anyone with the lack of subtlety.

"Sara," Shane tries, but Ryan shakes his head.

"I'm not seeing anyone seriously right now." The silence between them grows, bordering on uncomfortable before he quickly changes the subject. "What are you two doing?"

"Shane's a full-time time dad," Sara tells him with a soft look in Shane's direction. "I work for the city as an events coordinator."

Ryan whistles, suddenly startling Bear, who barks once from under the table and then seems to realize it's a false alarm. "That's a sweet gig."

"My girl's got a pension coming," Shane jokes, grabbing plates from a topmost cupboard. "We're gonna retire in luxury."

"_I'm_ gonna retire in luxury. I don't know what you and Charlie will do."

"Mom," Charlie says sounding slightly panicked. "You can't leave me with Dad."

Sara laughs and reaches over the table to touch Charlie's hand gently. "I'm not going anywhere, Sweetie. That was a bad joke."

"Dad doesn't believe in ghosts," Charlie says, looking over at Ryan as if to explain. "He can't save me if my room gets haunted."

"But your mom can?"

Charlie nods. "She showed me where the salt is and how to stop anything coming through my doorway."

Ryan half-coughs into his wine and Sara looks at him with an expression of delight so familiar, it takes him back a decade to when they used to conspire against Shane together.

"But you can show me how to catch one, right?" she asks before pausing, her eyes growing wide. "Can you see any ghosts in here now?"

"Okay, Charlie, enough ghost talk," Shane says, setting a plate in front of her. It's loaded with a Charlie-sized helping of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and steamed broccoli and green beans. It's the perfect distraction because she grabs her fork and begins tucking into it without another word.

"Smells good," Ryan says when Shane slides a plate in front of him just a few moments later.

"The Madej Meatloaf Special," he announces, rapping his knuckles on the table before going to get plates for himself and Sara.

Before sitting down, he tops up their glasses with wine and sets a cup of water in front of Charlie, who's too busy eating to notice.

"Thanks for coming over," Sara says, her hand finding Shane's on the table, like she needs the support, and Ryan's stomach clenches.

They've carved out a soft, family-shaped hole for themselves in the world, and Ryan feels like he shouldn't be privy to it.

"Thanks for inviting me," he says instead, smiling as casually as he can as he picks up his knife and fork.

*

After dinner — and a dessert of apple pie that is so good Ryan can't figure out if it's store-bought or not, and Shane refuses to admit it either way — Ryan ends up on the couch, pinned between Bear and Charlie, both of whom seem to have the constant need to lean against him.

"Can I ask him about ghosts now, Dad?" Charlie asks as Shane presses a beer into Ryan's hand and takes a seat next to Sara.

"You get one question," Shane relents. "Make it good."

Charlie falls quiet, probably trying to sort through the chaos of her brain for a good enough question, and Shane grins at him.

"Does that always work?" Ryan asks and Shane laughs and shakes his head.

"You have no idea how many questions a six year old's mind can store."

"Thanks for sparing me," he jokes, taking a pull of his beer. It's extra hoppy, which he knows Shane hates and Sara doesn't drink beer the last time he checked. He glances down at the label and gets the distinct impression they bought it especially for him.

"It's a local brewery," Shane tells him. "Thought you might like it."

"Thanks," Ryan says again, watching the way Sara gently rubs his knee like she's not even aware she's doing it.

"You can take home any you don't finish."

"How many did you get?" Ryan's asks, and Shane grins.

*

Ryan knows he's drunk. He should have stopped about two bottles back, but he's warm and comfortable, melting into the softness of the couch, Bear's head now in his lap. He pets him idly as he sleeps, glancing down every time he lets out a particularly loud snore.

Sara's face is flushed from wine, though now she's switched to red, not white, and her mouth looks unfairly red and kissable. Shane has his arm stretched along the back of the couch, the tips of his fingers playing with her soft curls.

Charlie has been talking for God knows how long about the projects she's working on for school, but every now and then she pauses and her head dips like she's trying her hardest to stay awake. Just after nine, she tips so far forwards that Ryan has to catch her to stop her tipping off the couch.

"Alright, Goober," Shane says, pushing himself up. "Time for bed."

"_No_," Charlie whines, the word stretching out until she has to stop to yawn. "I haven't asked Ryan my question yet."

"Do you know what your question is?" Shane asks as he carefully pulls her up into his arms.

"I'll think of it tomorrow," she promises. "Tell him he has to stay so I can ask."

"Okay, I will," Shane tells her and glances down at Ryan before making his way out towards the stairs.

Ryan rubs a hand over his face, feeling the heat in his cheeks as Sara catches his gaze.

"You can," she says and Ryan isn't sober enough to figure out what she means.

"What?"

"You can stay."

He shouldn't. He should call an Uber and collect his car the next day. But instead, he thinks about what it might be like to spend a little more time with them. He's selfish, he knows, but if this is the only time he sees them again, he wants to savor it.

"I don't want to get in the way," Ryan tries, because it's only polite, but Sara shakes her head.

"You've never been in the way of anything, Ryan," she says softly, and Ryan has to focus his attention down on Bear because the heat is creeping towards his eyes like he might cry.

He's way too drunk to be doing this.

"Bear and I can share the couch," he tells her with a half-hearted smile.

"We have a guest room upstairs. It'll be more comfortable."

Ryan doesn't know how to say that he doesn't think he should. He doesn't need to see any more of this home they've built together. It'll only be harder to leave in the morning.

He shakes his head. "The couch is fine."

Sara immediately seems to know not to push him, because she relents with a nod. "I'll go get you some bedding."

She leaves before he can attempt to say it's not even nine-thirty, but he thinks having a kid changes sleep schedules. Maybe they're the kind of people who are in bed before ten now.

He rubs behind Bear's ear and lets out a long breath, glancing around at how visibly their tastes have changed. Obviously, the house is kid-friendly, and there are toys and books scattered around, but there are photos on the wall from places Ryan doesn't recognize and things are an alarming shade of beige.

It's them, but not the them he remembers.

He startles as something jumps onto the couch beside him and it takes a moment to realize it's Obi. He's thin in the hips, the way all old cats get, and one eye is cloudy like he can't see from it.

"Hey, buddy," Ryan murmurs softly. "Remember me?"

He holds out a hand and Obi sniffs at him for a moment before seeming to determine Ryan's someone he trusts and immediately head butting Ryan's palm for pets. Ryan laughs under his breath and scritches under his chin.

“Alright,” he says, listening to the deep rumble of his purr. “You happy now, old guy?”

“You talking to me?” a voice asks from the doorway and Ryan looks up to find Shane watching him and can’t help but laugh again.

“Yeah, old guy.”

“You’re pushing forty, right? You’re officially old, too,” Shane points out and Ryan looks back at Obi, who chirps quietly, like he’s annoyed that Ryan’s attention is elsewhere.

“Guess some of us age more gracefully.”

“You better be talking about Obi,” Shane warns jokingly, finally stepping into the room to sit on the ottoman to Ryan’s left.

“He’s the only one out of us that looks good,” Ryan points out, before catching sight of Sara heading in their direction. “Except for Sara.”

“‘Except for Sara’ what?” Sara asks, barely able to see over the bundle of comforter and pillows she has in her arms as she moves towards him.

She dumps everything on the unused cushion behind Obi and then sets her hands on her hips.

“Ryan says we’re all old men, but he thinks you look good, babe,” Shane says with a grin and Sara looks down at them, her expression turning even softer.

“I think you’re both old and good looking,” she tells them before reaching down to pet Obi. “But Obi is definitely the most handsome man in this room.”

Shane laughs and darts his hands out, easily pulling Sara down into his lap and kissing the edge of her jaw. “I can live with that,” he murmurs as he pulls back and Sara settles an arm around his shoulders, looking more than comfortable.

“Charlie’s settled already?”

Shane nods. “I think the excitement of _Ghoul Man_ knocked her on her butt.”

Ryan rubs his jaw and laughs softly. “I can’t believe you talked me up like that. She’s gonna think I’m somebody.”

“You _are_,” Shane argues. “Obviously I was going to tell her about you. Unsolved was a huge part of my life. _You_ were a huge part of my life.”

“Both our lives,” Sara adds gently and Ryan really isn’t ready to pick at that scab yet.

“You know what? I’m pretty beat, too,” Ryan lies, yawning like it’s a hardship to sit there talking to them.

It’s clear they both know he’s looking for an out because they glance at each other before Sara sighs and pushes herself back to her feet.

“Yeah,” she says, sounding more than a little disappointed. “We probably need the extra sleep anyway.”

Shane watches him a moment longer until Sara touches his shoulder. “Can you see if Bear wants to go outside and then lock up? I want to get a headstart on the dishes.”

“Leave them until the morning,” Shane suggests and Sara shakes her head.

“I’ll hate myself.”

Shane makes a noise of understanding and Sara brushes her hand against his hair before stepping back and looking at Ryan.

“It really is good to see you again,” she tells him. “You know we’ll always be here if you want to talk.”

Ryan forces himself to smile and nod, and he hates the way he has to stop himself from flinching when she steps closer to lean down and press a kiss to the side of his head.

“We’ve missed you,” she murmurs into his hair and Ryan shuts his eyes and digs his hands into his knees to keep from doing anything stupid.

“Thanks again for having me for dinner,” he says, watching her go, but she doesn’t look back.

Shane sighs and stands. “C’mon, Bear,” he calls, gesturing for Bear to get off the couch. He does so with a loud groan, stretching out his back legs and then shaking, ears flapping loudly against his head. “Yeah, me too, Bud,” Shane agrees as Bear waddles out, probably heading in the direction of the kitchen where there’s a glass door to the back yard. “Sleep well,” Shane tells him, the corner of his mouth dented in what might technically pass as a smile. “Help yourself to anything you need in the night. We’ll see you in the morning.”

They won’t — not if Ryan has any say in the matter. He’s going to set his alarm for six and be out of the house before anyone has enough time to miss him. It’s not fair, but he knows it’s for the best.

“Night, Shane,” he says, and just like that, it’s only him and Obi and an entire life’s worth of regrets.

*

The thing Ryan doesn’t factor into his plan is the sleeping schedule of a six year old, because he wakes a little after five to the feeling of being watched. Charlie’s face is inches from his own and he lets out a yell that’s straight up embarrassing as he jerks backwards. It startles Charlie enough to knock her onto her butt, but she just blinks at Ryan in surprise.

“_Charlie_!” Sara calls out from the kitchen. “Leave Ryan alone!”

“Sorry,” Charlie whispers like they’re sharing a secret and Ryan rubs his face, attempting to figure out which way his stomach is trying to tip. It’s not happy either way and there’s a dull throbbing in the back of his skull — a sign that he’s getting too old to drink more than a couple of beers.

“Are you okay?” he asks, sitting up and pulling his glasses on.

Charlie’s wearing denim overall shorts, her bare knees knobbly and slightly bruised — probably from playing at recess with other kids — and she looks so much like Sara that Ryan has to take a moment to remember that he hasn’t fallen into some parallel universe.

“I’m fine,” she tells him. “Are you awake? Mom said I could ask if you wanted to draw with me when you were awake.”

Ryan wonders how long she’s been staring, silently willing him to wake up. He clears his throat and carefully disentangles himself from the comforter.

“Yeah,” he says gently. “I’m awake.”

Charlies flies into a buzz of movement, running out of the room before immediately running back in. “I need to grab my markers,” she tells him, disappearing again, and Ryan takes a moment to enjoy the silence, staring up at the ceiling.

He can hear her frantic footsteps on the stairs and Ryan really isn’t ready for another day of emotional battering.

Slowly, he drags himself up, folding the comforter and setting it aside with the pillows he’d used. He feels achy in a way that reminds him that he’s too old to be sleeping on couches, but it’s enough to keep him grounded. He stretches out his back and takes a deep breath in, letting it out as Charlie bursts back into the room, her arms full of stuff.

“Pull the table closer and we’ll use that,” she orders, dropping a stack of printer paper and a few very bright, very sparkly cases that are probably full of markers.

Ryan does as he’s told, pulling it close enough that it’s easy for him to reach and yet still enough room for Charlie to kneel between it and the couch as she pulls a couple of pieces of paper towards them.

“I think we should draw ghosts,” she says thoughtfully. “But I don’t have any white pens.”

“Who says ghosts have to be white?” Ryan asks and he’s pretty sure the thought blows her tiny mind. Her eyes light up.

“Okay, I’m going to draw me and Dad with ghosts and you can draw you and Mom.”

“You know what you want, huh?” he jokes, though she doesn’t even spare him a glance, just starts rifling through the pen cases for the colors she wants.

Ryan loves kids, but doesn’t get the opportunity to spend a lot of time around them. It’s oddly soothing beside Charlie, watching the way she grips the markers in her left hand, her tongue poking out in concentration as she outlines in green what is apparently a ghost. She’s clearly inherited Sara’s creative side because she’s pretty good already and doesn’t just resort to stick figures like Ryan’s doing in his drawing.

“That doesn’t look like Mom,” Charlie laughs when she notices Ryan adding swirls of curly hair to the head of one of his stick figures. “Why is her hair purple?”

Ryan has to bite back a smile. “She used to have purple hair.”

“No she didn’t. She’s Mom.”

“Moms can be fun,” Ryan points out with a laugh. “If you ask, I’m sure she’ll show you a photo.”

“_Mom_!” Charlie yells, so high-pitched and loud in Ryan’s poor hungover head that he wonders if he’ll puke. He slouches down and tucks his chin against his chest, and with his eyes shut, he can almost pretend everything is fine.

“_Charlie_,” Sara scolds from the doorway. “Inside voices.”

Ryan can’t look up because everything hurts too much, but he manages to open his eyes again as the scent of coffee grows stronger. Sara sets a steaming mug of it at the corner of the table, apparently for him, and then presses an apologetic hand to his shoulder.

“Sorry. I should have warned you what Saturdays are usually like.”

Ryan grunts and finally looks up. Sara has her hair clipped back and he’s pretty sure she’s not wearing a bra under the oversized shirt she’s wearing that’s clearly one of Shane’s. Her legs are bare, but he tries not to leer.

“Mom, Ryan said you used to have purple hair.”

Sara sits on the arm of the couch, her own mug of coffee cupped between her hands. She looks as tired as Ryan feels.

“Yeah, Honey,” she says gently. “I did.”

“When? Do you have photos? I want to see them.”

Sara lets out a breath. “Go grab my laptop. It’s in Dad’s office.”

Charlie doesn’t even recap her marker, just shoves herself to her feet and runs out of the living room.

“I’m sorry,” she says again. “I know you didn’t sign up for this.”

“It’s fine,” Ryan lies, but it does actually help when he picks up his coffee and takes a sip. “Where’s Shane?”

“Stay at home dads get to sleep in on Saturdays. It’s our compromise. I get Sundays.”

“Cute,” Ryan grunts, swallowing another mouthful of coffee, and Sara makes a soft noise of agreement.

“It’s hard raising a kid when you’re old.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Ryan says. “I don’t have a kid and I’m not old.”

Sara laughs and nudges him with her elbow. “You dick.”

Ryan hides his smile inside his mug.

“She’s a good kid,” Sara admits.

“Aren’t all parents obligated to say that?”

Sara snorts. “No. She was the worst fucking baby. You have no idea. Some days are still a trial.”

“Especially when you’re hungover.”

“I can only apologize so many times,” Sara tells him. “But I can probably find some Advil for you to help.”

“Yes, please,” he sighs and she reaches over and cards her fingers through his hair like she’s trying to fix it from where it’s probably standing on end in places after sleeping.

It feels nice, calming, but it’s not something he’s meant to have.

“Please don’t leave before Shane wakes up,” she murmurs quietly, because she still knows him so well. He savors the warmth of her hand for just a moment before leaning away.

“Don’t make this harder,” he pleads, but knows it won’t help.

“Just stay for breakfast. I’ll make pancakes.”

Ryan doesn’t get the chance to try to argue because the pounding of Charlie’s feet on the hardwood grows closer again.

“Mom!” she yells, a laptop, uncomfortably large in her grip, tucked tight against her chest. “I got it.”

She hands it over to Sara and doesn’t bother asking for permission before climbing into Ryan’s lap, clearly just wanting to be in a position where she can see the screen as Sara opens the computer and wakes it up.

Her hair smells like coconut and Ryan doesn’t know what to do with his hands, but most of all he hates how much of a disadvantage he’s at against a six year old. Sara holds his gaze just long enough for him to know it’s a lost cause and then she turns back to the laptop.

“Are you ready for this?” she asks Charlie, but it’s Ryan who thinks _no; no I’m not_.

*

Shane shuffles into the kitchen just as Sara’s dropping the last pancake onto the stack she’s already cooked. So far, Ryan has eaten two and Charlie’s eaten one, though only because she’s been talking nonstop and it’s distracting her.

He pauses, looking surprised to see Ryan at the table. Ryan would consider the glance he shares with Sara to be _significant_. “Hey,” he says softly, moving to pour himself a coffee. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Yeah,” Ryan tells him, wiping at his mouth to make sure he doesn’t have syrup all over himself. “That’s a comfortable couch.”

“It was a wedding present from Shane’s parents,” Sara says, moving around to join them at the table. Shane follows suit after grabbing himself a plate from the cupboard.

“You should have been there for it,” Shane says, looking across the table at him, his expression serious enough that Ryan has to avert his gaze.

Ryan hums quietly, noncommittal, and helps himself to another pancake. “I was busy.”

Shane laughs humorlessly. “I guess that’s a better excuse than saying you lost the invite.”

“Shane,” Sara warns and Shane lets out a breath of frustration. Ryan wonders if they’ve already had this argument, maybe in hushed tones while he was sleeping downstairs from them. He watches Shane take a sip of his coffee, seeming to use it to ground himself. When he sets his mug down, he inhales slowly and then glances down at Charlie.

“Want another pancake, Pancake?” he asks, making her laugh.

“Yes, please.”

She taps her plate with her fork and Shane slides one over to her, watching as she drizzles way too much syrup over it.

“Save some for Mom,” he warns and Sara holds her hand out, collecting the bottle before she can use it all.

It falls quiet while they eat, save for the noises from their knives and forks. Ryan’s just beginning to wonder if he can help himself to another cup of coffee when his phone buzzes across the edge of the table.

“Who’s calling you?” Charlie immediately asks as Ryan silences it.

“Charlie, don’t be nosey,” Sara says, but Ryan shakes his head.

“It was just my alarm,” he admits and Charlie laughs.

“But you’re awake.”

“Yeah, I am,” he agrees, but doesn’t lift his gaze from the pancake he’s pulling apart without actually eating.

“Didn’t expect to be woken so early, huh?” Shane asks, and it’s clear from his tone that he knows that was the alarm for Ryan’s attempted escape. “Kids can really ruin plans.”

“Except for me, Dad,” Charlie adds.

“Of course, Charlie,” he agrees lightly. “You’ve never ruined any plans.”

“Shane,” Ryan starts, because he thinks he owes some kind of explanation, even if it’s a lie about having to work this weekend. But Shane cuts him off.

“No, don’t worry about it, Ryan,” he says, meeting Ryan’s gaze. “It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve left us without an explanation.”

It’s the lowest blow Shane’s ever dealt and Ryan sits back in his chair, heat spreading across his cheeks from both embarrassment and hurt. Even Sara seems shocked, her mouth slightly open as she watches Shane for a moment before coming back to herself.

“Hey, Charlie,” she says quickly. “You want to watch cartoons while you finish breakfast?”

“Yes!” Charlies agrees, immediately getting down from the table and grabbing her plate.

“Careful,” Sara tells her, but she seems to have no trouble shuffling out towards the living room. After a moment, sound from the TV filters in and Bear, who had been snoozing quietly in the corner by the patio door, lumbers out, probably in search of scraps of pancake that Charlie will no doubt feed him.

It falls quiet between them and Ryan thinks the tension might kill him.

“It’s been over a decade,” Sara starts without warning. “We can be adults about this.”

Ten years ago, they’d all been very different people with very different goals than the ones they have now. It had been a pretty carefree time at BuzzFeed before the major layoff hit, but after that, it had quickly fallen apart.

They’d had a casual relationship — the three of them — starting after what was only ever meant to be a one-time hook-up for one of Sara’s birthdays. Ryan can’t remember which one it was now, but they’d all had too much too drink, got too handsy in the back of an Uber. It had felt natural at the time for Ryan to follow them up to their apartment; to let Sara kiss him against the front door; to let Shane carefully unbutton his shirt and press his hands everywhere he’d wanted to.

He hadn’t even truly known at the time what a polyamorous relationship consisted of, let alone that it was what Sara and Shane shared. He’d learned later that he wasn’t the first person they’d brought back to share their bed, but he was the first who’d stayed.

They’d been young and it had been easy. Right up until the point where Ryan had bailed, too unsure of what a future with two people might look like.

He’d taken the easy way out — he’d quit BuzzFeed, found a job in the Bay Area, and settled down with a woman with eyes the same color as Shane’s and a smile almost as soft as Sara’s. He doesn’t actually know when Sara and Shane had moved to Chicago, maybe not long after he’d left, but when the invite for their wedding had arrived, it had stayed pinned to his fridge until a few days before the ceremony.

He’d RSVP’d, had a flight booked, and a hotel room reserved only a few blocks from the venue. But he’d never gone.

And now Shane’s staring at him across a kitchen table Ryan never thought he’d be sitting at, though he looks more sad than angry, which might be worse.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Ryan tells him honestly. “I was young and stupid.”

“You were almost thirty,” Shane retorts. “That’s not an excuse.”

He’s never seen Shane like this and he wishes he hadn’t taken that extra pancake because his stomach starts to hurt.

“Maybe if you’d talked to me about what was happening, things wouldn’t have ended the way they did,” Ryan fires back, which actually makes Shane snap his mouth closed.

“Ryan,” Sara says gently, but Ryan shakes his head.

“No, you guys don’t get to be mad about something you helped cause. This isn’t all on me.”

“We’re not mad,” Sara tries, but Ryan scoffs.

“What? You’re just disappointed?”

Sara sits back and Ryan folds his arms, closing himself off and hoping that maybe it’ll hurt less if he tries to pretend he’s not still so attached.

“We were hurt,” she explains, “but we thought you’d come around in time and we could start over. The years just kept slipping by without us realizing.”

“Why was it all on me?” Ryan asks, frustrated. “Why was it _my_ responsibility to be the one to come to you guys?”

“We didn’t want to scare you off by putting a label on what we had,” she explains and Ryan smiles sadly.

“Well, you guys did that anyway.”

“Yeah,” Sara agrees quietly. “We should have been clearer with our intentions.”

“I didn’t even know you had intentions,” Ryan admits. “I thought it was just casual between friends.”

Shane stares at him and Ryan feels like he’s about to suffer through another of Shane’s rants, but unexpectedly, he starts to laugh instead. It’s not forced either — it’s one of the full-bellied laughs where Shane’s whole face scrunches inwards as he tosses his head back, both palms flat on the table.

He looks so much like the Shane Ryan remembers so fondly that it hurts his chest.

“Casual sex between friends,” he gets out after the worst of his laughter has passed. “Just a couple of guys being dudes with one dude’s girlfriend.”

“_Shane_,” Sara complains, but lets out a laugh like she can’t help it.

Ryan feels a little lost. “Are you laughing at me?”

Shane immediately shakes his head, his posture softening as he sags slightly. “No, Ryan; we’re not laughing at you. We went really wrong somewhere if you only ever thought we were friends.”

He shares a look with Sara, who bites at her thumbnail and offers him a crooked twitch of her lips.

“We didn’t know that’s how you felt,” Sara explains, tucking a curl behind her ear, leaning her chin on the back of her hand, elbow on the table. “We thought you knew.”

“I didn’t even know what kind of relationship you two had.”

Sara looks over at Shane before saying, “I don’t think we did either. The boundaries were, uh, hazy back then.”

“Are they still?”

Sara shakes her head. “No, we’ve settled since then.”

“Do you still — ?” He honestly doesn’t expect them to answer.

“Now and then we bring someone home,” Shane admits. “Nothing serious.”

“Even with — ?” He gestures with his thumb towards the living room.

Shane nods. “We want her to know that there are different kinds of love than what’s shown on TV.”

“That’s — ” _progressive_ he thinks, but doesn’t say aloud. He’s not sure he wants to settle on anything in particular, but Shane nods, like he agrees.

“You left because you didn’t want that uncertainty?”

Ryan shakes his head. “I left because I thought I felt more than you both did. I thought you wanted casual and I couldn’t keep doing that.”

“Fuck,” Shane complains, rubbing at his face with his hands. “It would have been so easy to figure out back then.”

“We’ve missed out on ten years of friendship because we didn’t know how to talk,” Sara says with a sigh.

“I wouldn’t change anything,” Ryan replies eventually, after a beat of silence. “I’m in a good place right now. It got me out of the hole of complacency I was in.”

“Maybe this was the best timeline,” Sara agrees, her hand finding Shane’s again, and Ryan stares at their entwined fingers.

_Maybe this is our second chance_, he doesn’t say, but nods. They can work with this. It might be the foundation they need to rebuild their friendship.

“Can we start over?” Ryan asks carefully, his chest feeling lighter when Sara shares a smile with Shane and then looks across at him, like that’s exactly what she wants.

“Hi, Ryan,” she says. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Hi, guys,” he replies easily. “What have I missed?”

*

Charlie finds her way back into the kitchen a little after seven, her hands held up in front of her.

“I’m sticky,” she announces.

“That’s lucky,” Shane says, standing up and smacking his lips. “Because I’m still hungry and a pair of sticky hands is just what I’m craving.”

Charlie laughs as Shane catches her around the waist, waddling across the kitchen and lifting her high enough for her to reach the sink.

“Where’s your plate?” Sara asks as Charlie vigorously soaps up her hands.

“Bear’s cleaning it.”

Sara blows out a breath and heads in the direction of the living room, making Ryan grin.

“Kids, huh?” Shane says when he finally sets Charlie back on the floor and she runs to dry them on a dish towel hanging on the oven door.

“Bear’s having a great time,” Ryan points out.

Sara walks back in then, holding a plate that’s suspiciously clean, Bear following close behind, licking his lips. She puts it in the sink and begins running the water to wash up.

“What are we doing today?” Sara asks casually, and Ryan knows it’s probably his cue to leave soon.

“Dad said we could go to the park,” Charlie says, pulling herself up into the chair next to Ryan. She’s kneeling on the cushion, legs tucked through the slats at the back as she leans her elbows and most of her upper body on the table.

“We can do that,” Sara agrees. “It’s still early.”

“Can Ryan come, too?”

“No, bud, I’m sure Ryan has other stuff to get to,” Shane tells her, gathering up the rest of the dirty dishes from the table to deposit in the sink.

“But we could hunt ghosts there. You always said if Ghoul Man came to visit we could hunt together.”

“Yeah, I did, but I — ” Shane says and it’s clear he never expected Ryan to actually visit. It wasn’t a promise he’d ever expected to keep.

“It’s okay,” Ryan quickly interrupts. “I didn’t have plans for today.”

“No, Ryan,” Sara says softly. “We can’t expect you to — ”

“You’re not asking much from me,” Ryan points out. “A day at the park sounds great. Unless — ”

He leaves it hanging between them; an unspoken _unless you don’t want me there_.

“We’d like you to come,” she insists. “Right, Charlie?”

“Yes!” she crows, almost directly into Ryan’s ear. “_Please_, Ghoul Man!”

Ryan laughs. “Okay, sure,” he agrees, before glancing between Sara and Shane. “I can meet you there. I need to shower and change.”

Sara nods. “We can pick you up on the way, if you’d like. Just shoot Shane the address.” Ryan nods in agreement, because it’s even better if he doesn’t have to drive. “But first, you have to brush your teeth.”

“I will,” Charlie promises, already wriggling out of the weird position she’s in at the table, running off, her footsteps heavy on the stairs.

Ryan laughs again. “I thought you were talking to me.”

“You should probably brush your teeth too,” Shane points out. “Your dad’s spidey senses are probably tingling right now.”

“You’re right,” Ryan says with a slight wheeze. “What time do we want to meet?”

*

Ryan showers, shaves, and changes, part of him wishing he still had his ghoul stomping boots for old-time’s sake. The Madej family Subaru pulls up outside the hotel a little after nine; Sara behind the wheel and Shane squished in the back with Charlie and Bear.

“Thought we’d spare you,” Sara murmurs quietly and Ryan laughs.

“Thanks.”

“Hi, Ghoul Man,” Charlie greets, like she hasn’t seen him in years. “We’re going to catch some ghosts, right?”

“I’m not sure we’ll find any at the park,” Ryan says mildly, “but we can try.”

Charlie’s excitement seems to increase tenfold, her legs flailing like the energy has to go _somewhere_.

The park they end up at is a little more sprawling than Ryan expects. He’d been picturing one of the tiny one-block-sized kid parks in L.A, barely big enough for more than a dozen children. This is more of a ten acre county park with areas to fish, ride bikes, and have quiet picnics in the shade of old oaks. The latter is apparently exactly what they’re doing, because Shane tucks a basket from the trunk of the car into the crook of his arm and Sara hugs a stack of blankets to her chest.

“Need me to hold anything?” Ryan asks, but Sara shakes her head.

“I’m good.”

“You can hold my hand,” Charlie says, raising her arm in Ryan’s direction, and it’s possibly the cutest thing Ryan has ever experienced.

He looks over at Sara, who appears caught off guard before, slowly, a wide grin spreads across her face and she glances at Shane.

“That’s pretty heavy,” Ryan tells Charlie, quickly looking away. “Are you sure I can carry it the whole way?”

Charlie laughs. “It’s just my _hand_, Ghoul Man.”

“Oh, in that case,” Ryan says, taking hers in his own, the tininess of her palm taking him by surprise. She smiles up at him and then tugs at him, pulling him in the direction of a play area.

“First, you can teach me about hunting ghosts and then you can push me on the swings.”

“Charlie,” Sara sighs. “We don’t tell people what to do.”

“You tell me what to do all the time.”

“Ooh, busted,” Ryan jokes before smiling gently. “It’s fine, Sara. It sounds like a great plan, Charlie, but maybe we can try to be a little more polite?”

“You can push me on the swings, thanks,” Charlie tries, forcing a cough out of him when he tries to cover his laughter.

“A for effort, kiddo,” Shane says from behind and when Ryan turns to look at him, he winks.

Sara leads them to a patch of grass just far enough away from the play area that the screaming children aren’t too unbearable. She spreads out enough blankets that even Shane can stretch out his stupidly long legs comfortably, and Charlie stays glued to Ryan’s side as he settles next to Shane’s feet. Bear curls up beside them and Charlie scratches his side idly.

“I thought about my ghost question,” she says, leaning in like she’s worried she might miss anything Ryan says.

“Yeah? What do you want to know?”

She purses her lips and spares a glance at Shane. “Is it true you kept my dad safe?”

Of all the questions for Charlie to ask, that’s really not what he’s expecting.

“What?”

“Oh boy,” Shane says quietly from beside them and Ryan can’t bring himself to look over.

“In the stories he told me — you always saved him. Is it true? How did you protect him from ghosts? Can you teach me to do that?”

“That’s more than one question,” Shane points out and it’s clearly a distraction. “How about swing time?”

“_Dad_,” Charlie whines, and Shane looks at Sara like he needs help. Sara shakes her head.

“You’re the one who told her those stories,” she says. “You made your bed — lie in it.”

“Your dad saved me, too,” Ryan tries, throwing Shane the life preserver he so clearly needs. “Did he tell you about that?”

Charlie shakes her head and looks at Shane curiously.

“Okay,” Ryan announces. “How about we go swing and I tell you about it?”

Shane hums worriedly. “I don’t trust that,” he says, but Charlie’s already up and tugging at Ryan’s shirt. “I don’t know what you’re going to tell her.”

“Join the club,” Ryan tells him with a wink, and pushes himself to his feet.

*

The thing about Charlie — that may very well be Ryan’s downfall — is that she’s an exact mix of Shane and Sara with a little something that’s uniquely her. He can see the behaviors she’s picked up from them, both in the way she acts and in the questions she asks the second Ryan starts giving her gentle pushes on the swing. But he also sees _her_.

“How did Dad save you from ghosts?” Charlie asks, kicking her legs out in front of herself. “He doesn’t believe in ghosts. He told me.”

“He did? Well, he might not believe in ghosts, but we’re friends and you wouldn’t leave a friend behind if they were in trouble, would you?”

Charlie shakes her head, curls bouncing. “No.”

“Your dad saved me by _not_ believing in ghosts. He wasn’t afraid so he was always there to protect me. Ghosts don’t like tall people.”

Charlie cranes her head around. “They don’t?”

“He didn’t tell you that?”

“No! What if _I’m_ tall like Dad? Will ghosts be afraid of me?”

Ryan pauses. “Don’t you _want_ them to be afraid of you?”

Charlie digs her feet into the wood chips below, halting herself mid-swing. She turns almost the whole way around to look at him. “Why would I want ghosts to be afraid of me?”

“I think you’re just what we need if we ever go ghost hunting again,” Ryan tells her. “You believe in ghosts like me, but like your dad, you’re not afraid.”

Her face breaks into an all-consuming grin. “Can we hunt together? All of us with Mom, too?”

Ryan can’t bring himself to dash her hopes. “Maybe. We’ll have to see.”

She faces forward again. “Okay,” she agrees, lifting her feet. “Push me again, please. Tell me how to catch a ghost.”

Ryan smiles and gives her another gentle push to get the momentum going. He glances over at the space in the grass where Shane and Sara are lounging. Sara’s tucked up close to Shane, her arm around his waist, head on his shoulder. She laughs at something and then leans up to let him kiss her. They look truly happy and there’s a flicker of something inside him, but he can’t tell if it’s jealousy or a longing for what they’ve created for themselves.

“To catch a ghost,” he begins, focusing back on Charlie, “you first have to be brave.”

*

“You’ll feel that tomorrow,” Shane tells him as Ryan drops onto the blanket, rolling his shoulders. Charlie immediately climbs onto Sara to tell her about her new ghost hunting knowledge.

The worst part is that the ache from constantly pushing Charlie for almost an hour is already beginning to settle in.

“Won’t have to wait that long,” Ryan retorts and Shane laughs.

“Charlie usually naps after lunch. You can join her.”

Ryan likes the insinuation that they’ll spend the afternoon together too. He hums quietly and stretches his legs out. “Maybe I will.”

“Help yourself,” Sara says, nudging her picnic basket closer to him with her foot. The top is open revealing a thermos, a stack of oranges, and a handful of granola bars. There are enough peels scattered inside that hint that Sara and Shane have already eaten their fill.

“It’s tea,” Shane tells him, tipping his head towards the thermos.

Ryan doesn’t hesitate to pour himself a cup straight into the lid. It’s not hot enough to burn his mouth, but it still spreads warmth through his chest as he swallows.

“This is nice,” Ryan says, looking out around them. It’s the perfect place for families and an even better place to just relax.

“Yeah,” Shane agrees, but when Ryan glances over, he’s watching him already. His stomach flips and he looks away, hating that even after all this time, his body — more importantly, his heart — is still betraying him. “I hope you didn’t tell Charlie anything I wouldn’t.”

Ryan makes a thoughtful noise and turns to look at Charlie. She’s sitting on Sara’s thighs, sipping at a juicebox. “Tell your dad what you want to get.”

Charlie’s face lights up, like she’s remembering and she quickly stands and moves to sit on Shane instead. “Dad, we have to get a spirit box. Ryan told me I can talk to ghosts.”

Ryan has to fight to keep the smile off his face as Shane looks at him with pure betrayal in his eyes.

“I’m going to m-u-r-d-e-r you,” he spells out and Ryan finally breaks, laughing with his head tipped back.

“What’s funny?” Charlie asks. “I _really_ want one.”

“You’re a sick man, Ryan,” Shane says, but his expression crumples into amusement.

“Maybe I can send you one for your birthday,” Ryan adds and Charlie bounces, kneeing Shane in the stomach hard enough to probably hurt, but he wheezes through it

“That’s soon!”

“It’s next spring,” Sara points out, which is almost eight months away, and Ryan laughs again. She’ll probably have forgotten it by then.

“I’ll see what I can do,”

“Amateur,” Shane says, shaking his head.

“What?” Ryan asks with a grin.

“Never make promises to a six year old. It’s like making a pact with the devil.”

“What’s a pact?” Charlie asks and Shane laughs, looking at Sara for help.

“Who wants to go see the ducks?” she asks and Charlie, not even realizing it’s a distraction, immediately latches onto it.

“Me! I do!”

Sara shares a smile with Ryan, something soft and fond.

“Okay, well you need to help me fold these blankets and take them back to the car first,” Sara tells her, and Charlie makes short work of shooing both Shane and Ryan to their feet.

*

It’s not a long walk down to the water, but Charlie sits atop Shane’s shoulders, so high up in the air that it actually makes Ryan anxious.

“At least you know she won’t grow up with a fear of heights,” he murmurs to Sara and she laughs, tucking her arm around his, just the way she used to. For a fraction of a second, he thinks about shaking her off, but instead, because he’s a little bit selfish sometimes, he slips his hand into his pocket and effectively traps her there. It’s snug and warm, and best of all Sara doesn’t try even the slightest to pull away.

"She's always loved it up there," Sara replies softly. "When she was younger, she used to cry when I'd carry her like that. It could only ever be Shane."

“Ouch,” Ryan jokes. “That feels like a slight against short people.”

“She didn’t even try to hide her favoritism. She’s a little better at it now. She’d probably let you carry her too.”

Ryan smiles, but doesn’t answer, mostly because he’s not even sure what to say. He’d happily carry Charlie on his shoulders, but he has a feeling that would be the most dangerous thing he’s done in a long while. He’s not sure he’d ever be able to leave if he had that opportunity.

Sara squeezes his bicep and Ryan glances over long enough to see her smile.

“You’re good with her, Ry,” she says, making his stomach clench. “I thought you’d have a million kids of your own by now.”

“Yeah,” Ryan agrees, because he did too. “I chose my career.”

“They’re not mutually exclusive. You can always have both.”

Ryan nods. “I know that now, but talk about being late to the party.”

It’s not pity that she looks at him with, but it’s something. “There’s still time.”

Ryan shrugs. “Sure,” he says, but he doesn’t believe it. He’s long since given up on the idea. He’s just looking for someone to settle down with now.

“Maybe you can find someone with a kid already,” she suggests and Ryan’s gaze drifts to Charlie.

“Maybe.”

“A ready-made family would be perfect for you.”

“Sara,” he pleads quietly, because he thinks she knows exactly what she’s doing.

She squeezes his arm again, like an apology. “Stay for dinner with us again.”

It feels like the setup to something for which he’s not ready. “I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

Ryan stops walking and Sara stays beside him; Shane doesn’t seem to notice and Charlie’s too busy pointing ahead at the pond and chatting away about something.

“Sara,” he says again, gently, and she looks at him with an earnest expression.

“We haven’t seen you in a decade,” she explains. “We just want a little more time with you.”

“I don’t think — ” Ryan starts.

But Sara interrupts with a soft, “Please,” and Ryan knows he can’t win against that. He never has and never will.

He blows out a breath and watches Shane dip down low so Charlie can climb from his shoulders. She immediately runs to the water’s edge, Shane quickly following behind like he’s afraid she might fall in.

“Duck!” Ryan hears her yell, but she’s pointing at a Canada Goose that’s paddling in lazy circles.

He really shouldn’t, but he looks over at Sara and relents. “Okay,” he says, “but I can’t keep doing this.”

Sara nods, a hint of sadness in her smile like she understands, but then she tugs at his arm and draws him down towards the water where Charlie and Shane are waiting.

*

Charlie falls asleep with her face partially pressed into her plate of chicken and veggies.

“Sweetie,” Sara murmurs, a hand on her shoulder, while across the table, Shane tries to get a picture with his phone.

Sara easily scoops her up, a pointed look at Shane like he isn’t helping — which is true — and carries her out. Shane exhales a breath of laughter and shakes his head.

“That’s why we had to eat early,” he explains. “The park totally kicks her butt every time.”

“I think it kicked _my_ butt too,” Ryan retorts, nudging cauliflower around his plate and Shane laughs again.

“I’m not sure Sara can carry you upstairs.”

Ryan smiles politely and tries not to think about either of them carrying him upstairs, nor how much he would like that.

“It’s nice that you eat with her,” Ryan says instead and Shane shrugs.

“Family meals are important and kids love routine.”

“You’re doing a good job.”

Shane rakes his fingers through his hair. “Thanks. We try.”

“I’m serious,” Ryan says, because it sounds like Shane thinks he’s joking.

“I know,” Shane replies with a sigh. “Some days are harder than others. She’s been on her best behavior with you around.”

“You’re welcome.”

Shane laughs. “If you ever feel like babysitting, let us know.”

Ryan thinks it might be weird to admit he actually wants that. “I don’t think hanging out in a hotel room is a kid’s idea of a good time.” he says instead and Shane shrugs.

“You could take her to the park, or just hang out here.”

It’s an offer too huge for Ryan to process. “Maybe,” he agrees quietly. “I’m here for a little while longer.”

Shane smiles, the kind of smile that Ryan used to — and still apparently does — find devastatingly charming.

“Hey,” Sara says from the doorway, quickly drawing Ryan’s attention away. He has no idea how long she’s been standing there. “Charlie wants a story.”

Shane blows out a breath and looks at Ryan. “Duty calls.”

“She wants Ryan, too,” Sara admits and Ryan’s stomach flips.

“I don’t have to — ” Ryan starts, but Shane shakes his head.

“C’mon, we have a story to tell.”

*

He makes it halfway up the stairs before he realizes he’s overstepping the line he drew for himself by seeing the rest of their home. Even worse is that there are baby photos of Charlie interspersed with photos from Sara and Shane’s wedding day on the walls all the way up. He hesitates near the top and Shane glances back.

“Cute, huh?”

He’s clearly talking about Charlie’s photos, but Ryan’s staring at one of them instead.

“Yeah,” he agrees and allows himself one lingering glance at the open doorway of Shane and Sara’s bedroom at the end of the hallway before turning and following Shane towards what is apparently Charlie’s room.

Charlie’s tucked up with the sheets pulled all the way to her chin, and she looks half asleep already, but brightens at the sight of them.

“Ghoul boys story,” she says, punctuating it with a yawn that belies her excitement. Shane shares an amused glance with Ryan.

“Five minutes,” he promises under his breath and Ryan grins.

“Ryan, you sit here,” Charlie orders, patting the tiny space on the bed to her left. “Dad, you sit in the chair.”

Shane scoffs jokingly. “Oh, so _Ryan_ gets the comfortable seat?”

“Yeah,” Charlie confirms, not seeming to pick up on Shane’s tone.

Ryan glances at Shane questioningly, tipping his head towards the bed, unsure of the boundaries. “Can I — ?”

Shane sits in Charlie’s tiny desk chair, knees comically high, and watches him a moment longer than is truly comfortable. “Yeah,” Ryan,” he says gently. “The lady says it’s okay.”

“Am I the lady?” Charlie asks and Shane laughs with a nod.

“Yeah, Charlie; you’re the lady. C’mon, make some space for Ghoul Man.”

She wriggles slightly, but doesn’t actually move, but Ryan manages to cram himself into the space beside her and she quickly rolls onto her side and uses his chest as a pillow.

“Tell me one I haven’t heard before,” she says and Ryan looks over at Shane, who’s leaning forward, elbows on his knees, watching them like it’s something important.

“What haven’t you told her?”

Shane blinks and seems to come back to himself. “I’ve told a lot of the supernatural stories.”

“What about Bigfoot?”

“What’s bigfoot?” Charlie asks and Ryan looks down at her.

“_Who_ is Bigfoot,” Ryan corrects. “He’s almost as tall as your dad.”

“That’s tall,” Charlie says, sounding awed.

“Now, imagine your dad but _really hairy_.”

Charlie lifts her head to look over at Shane. “Like when he has a beard?”

“Yeah, just like that,” Ryan says, grinning, and Shane frowns at him.

“Like Chewbacca,” Shane explains instead and Charlie nods understandingly and drops her head back to Ryan’s chest with a yawn.

“We went to find him once,” Ryan tells her, finding himself rubbing soothingly at her shoulder. “Your dad knows how to talk to him. He’ll have to teach you one day.”

He laughs before he can help himself, remembering the noises Shane had made in the forest, and when he glances over, Shane’s eyes are already crinkled in amusement.

“That stupid helmet,” Shane murmurs, shaking in silent laughter.

“What helmet?” Charlie asks softly.

“Ryan knows all about Bigfoot safety,” Shane tells her. “Another day, he can tell you how to stay safe.”

“I’m already safe with you,” Charlie announces. “I don’t need a helmet.”

“Of course,” Shane agrees. “But just in case.”

Charlie makes a soft sound, like she’s already half asleep. “Did you find him?”

Shane looks over at him and Ryan doesn’t know if Shane gives their stories happy endings, so he waits.

“We didn’t find him that time,” Shane admits, “but we found a cool salamander, like the ones in your reptile book.”

Charlie doesn’t reply and when Ryan looks down, he finds she’s finally fallen asleep on him. His chest constricts painfully at the soft, relaxed expression on her face, and as he catches Shane’s eyes, he sees something similar in Shane’s own expression.

“Little help?” Ryan whispers, but Shane keeps watching him, like maybe he’s thinking about keeping Ryan pinned there.

“You’d have to stay if I didn’t.”

Ryan holds his gaze, wondering if he’s going to have to wiggle his way out alone, but just as he starts to move, Shane stands up and takes a step towards the bed.

“Go ahead,” he murmurs as he carefully gathers Charlie up enough for Ryan to slip away before tucking her back in and sweeping a few stray curls away from her face.

Ryan pauses in the doorway as Shane switches off the bedside lamp and turns on the nightlight instead, filling the room with a dim, but warm glow. It’s a kid’s room through and through — toys scattered haphazardly, a poster of Barbie on one wall and a dinosaur skeleton on another — but it says a lot about the life Shane has created for himself. This life he’s created with Sara.

Shane shuts the door behind them, but presses his forehead against the wood for a long moment. Ryan thinks he should go; should pretend he hasn’t noticed and just head back downstairs. But his feet refuse to move and his traitorous hand reaches out, settling on Shane’s shoulder.

“Hey,” he says gently. “I’m sorry if I — ”

But he doesn’t get to finish the thought because Shane rounds on him and suddenly it’s Shane’s hand on Ryan’s shoulder instead, keeping him pressed firmly against the wall behind.

“_Ryan_,” he says like it physically hurts. His thumb finds Ryan’s throat, rubbing in a way that might be unconsciously done. “God, Ryan. I don’t know what to do when you’re like this.”

Ryan doesn’t dare ask _like what?_

“You’re _so good_ with Charlie,” Shane continues, his eyes closing briefly like it’s too much. He takes a breath. “Please don’t leave again.”

“Shane,” Ryan says carefully, but he can’t fight the way Shane looks at him.

“_Stay_.”

Ryan lets the silence hang between them for a moment, and then another. “I can’t keep sleeping on your couch, Shane.”

“Then sleep in our bed,” Shane tells him, his hands on Ryan’s face, tilting it up like maybe he’s thinking about kissing him.

Ryan simultaneously grabs Shane’s wrist and presses at his shoulder, keeping him back but also keeping him exactly where he is. “_Shane_. Shane, your _wife_ is downstairs.”

“Sara knows,” Shane says. “Ryan, we — ” He cuts himself off, staring down at Ryan, like he doesn’t know what to say next, as though he’s trying to find the right words to explain.

He thumbs at Ryan’s jaw, gaze dropping to his mouth, before he finally lets go and takes a step back.

“_Fuck_,” he hisses, turning and heading for the stairs, leaving Ryan on the landing trying to get his heartrate under control.

He drags his fingers through his hair, hating that he can still feel the heat of Shane’s hands on him. He wants it all so much, but it’s just spilling through his fingers like sand. It’s not meant to be, he knows, but it still aches inside him like a too-tender bruise that he keeps poking at, just to see if it still hurts.

He draws in a steadying breath and wonders if he’d be able to sneak out without them noticing.

The staircase seems endless as he slowly makes his way down, bracing for something unknown when he reaches the edge of the kitchen door and peers inside.

Sara has her back to the door, washing up, her hands soapy and wet as she scrubs at a pan. But Shane’s beside her, tucked in close, voice low and indiscernible as he murmurs something. He sees Ryan first and must say something, because Sara glances over her shoulder at him.

“Ryan,” she says gently, and Ryan glances through the living room, where he can see the front door and his salvation. If he were in his twenties again, he might just try to make a break for it. Instead, he sighs and steps into the kitchen, watching Sara’s expression turn sad, making Ryan feel inexplicably guilty.

“I'm not mad at you,” Sara says quickly, drying her hands on the nearest dish towel.

“Are you mad at Shane?”

She glances at him. “A little bit,” she admits. “He was meant to wait.”

“What do you mean _wait_?”

She shares a look with Shane. “We didn't want to scare you off.”

“Scare me off?”

“We wanted to take things slow, but it feels so much like before, like things would work so well between us,” Shane says, but stops when Sara puts a hand on his arm.

“I can’t,” Ryan admits. “I can’t do the no strings attached thing again. I’m pushing forty. I’m too old for that.”

“We're not looking for no-strings-attached, Ryan,” Shane tells him, gaze heavy. Ryan swallows. “We weren't the first time either.”

“You have a _kid_,” Ryan tries. “I don't even live in this state. This is set up to fail.”

“Won't know if we don't try,” Shane says. “What's the worst that could happen? We stop talking for ten years?”

There's a pointed pause, both Sara and Shane watching him for a long moment before Ryan breaks the silence by laughing. It takes him off guard, the laughter spilling out of him in a rush. He always forgets how inappropriately timed some of Shane's jokes can be and he's been out of practice for a long time now. He presses a hand over his eyes, his body shaking with mirth.

“You're such an asshole,” he complains with none of the heat, and when he drops his hand, Sara and Shane are watching like they're not quite sure how to react. He takes a steadying breath, the last of his laughter dying off, and pushes his fingers through his hair. "For the record, it's still a bad idea. Some people never learn from history."

“You're here for a while,” Sara says gently. “We could just see where it goes. Maybe it’ll work out, maybe it won't. But Shane and I would like to try.”

He knows it could go wrong in so many ways, but he's already lived through it going wrong once, and he survived. They all did. Now with all of their hands exposed, no secrets between them, maybe it's their chance to try again and do it right this time.

Ryan has to shut his eyes. He wants it. He wants in on the little nuclear family they’ve created, especially if they want him there alongside them.

He opens his eyes and nods.

"Come here," Sara invites, opening her arms, and Ryan knows it's his choice now. If he wants this, he has to take the three steps forward to reach them. If not, he has the opportunity to leave.

Ryan takes the three steps forward, letting Sara wind her arms around him and pull him closer. She's warm and safe and smells like a mix of dish soap and the remnants of her perfume after a long day. He tucks his face against her throat and breathes her in, his body trembling as he realizes he's standing on the precipice of his life, looking down and hoping there's someone at the bottom to catch him.

A large hand — one of Shane’s — presses between his shoulders, bracketed by both of Sara's smaller ones, and he thinks they'll both do it. They'll both catch him.

“I want to try, too,” he murmurs, lips catching on Sara’s skin as he speaks. He can feel the rapid _thump-thump_ of her heart against his own chest and she slides the fingers of one hand into his hair. “I’ve missed you both _so much_.”

His breath catches on what threatens to be a hiccup of sadness and Sara’s hold tightens on him even more.

“We were stupid to have let you go,” she tells him and this time when Ryan’s lips graze her skin, it’s done with purpose. He kisses her throat, just to see what’ll happen, and when she continues stroking his hair and doesn’t pull away, he does it again.

He trails his way up her neck, slowly, planting a gentle kiss over each barely-visible freckle on his path up towards her jaw. She tilts her head to give him room and lets out a quiet, breathless noise. When he reaches her chin, the hand she has around his back moves to cup his head and when Ryan moves just a little further up, her mouth is already open and waiting for him to kiss her properly.

When he does, it’s exactly like he remembers — slow and soft, her tongue just barely tracing along his bottom lip. She makes another soft sound, pushing it into his mouth as she clutches at him, her movements slightly frantic, like she thinks it might be the only time she gets this.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he murmurs, pulling back for just a moment. But it’s long enough for him to notice the tears tracking down her face, her eyes already welling up with more. “I’m sorry,” he says, pressing back in, because he’s not sure words will be enough to comfort her.

She kisses back, wetter this time, and not just from her tears. She licks into his mouth, and he’s careful to gentle the motions of her tongue against his as he soothes her, slowing things back down until she relaxes against him. It takes a little while, but eventually the kisses turn easy and lazier and it feels less like Sara is never going to let him go.

“I’m still here, you know,” Shane jokes softly, and fingers too big to be Sara’s own touch Ryan’s jaw. He breaks the kiss easily, turning his head in the same moment as Shane’s mouth catching his. It’s a deeper kiss, rougher, if only because of how their stubble drags, spreading heat along Ryan’s face.

He wants this, all of this.

Sara rubs at his shoulders, like she can’t bear the thought of not touching him, and Shane drops both hands down to his hips. Ryan’s forgotten how far up he has to lean to reach Shane’s mouth, but with an arm curled around his neck, it’s simple.

When they finally pull away from each other, Shane stares down at him, gaze darting around Ryan’s face like he’s trying to take in every new line and age-spot. He drops one last kiss to his mouth and then glances over at Sara, clearly looking for direction.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Sara says, wiping at her face, and for just a second, Ryan’s gaze catches on the half-finished dishes in the sink. It takes less than a second for him to decide he doesn’t care about them at all.

“Yeah, okay,” he agrees, and Shane’s hand settles warmly into the small of his back, guiding him towards the stairs.

*

Shane and Sara’s bedroom is about as messy as it always used to be back in L.A. There are clothes scattered near their laundry basket having not quite made it inside, and a stack of toys and books across the top of their dresser. There are pictures of Charlie on the walls, with one or two larger art pieces that look like Sara probably drew them. It’s homey and perfect.

“C’mere,” Shane says, catching Sara around the waist, and when he kisses her, she goes pliant in his arms.

Ryan likes watching them, always has; the way they seamlessly move together, anticipating what the other will do before they even do it. It’s fascinating when they’re puttering around the kitchen together, and downright _sexy_ when they’re doing it in the bedroom.

Shane doesn’t waste any time before pulling Sara’s shirt up and over her head. She’s wearing a sports bra underneath that’s pinching into the skin around her back. Ryan wants to touch, but Shane beats him to it, tucking his fingers under the elastic and dragging it up. Sara laughs when it gets tangled around her head.

“Looks good,” Shane says, stepping back like he’s just going to leave her like that. She laughs again, using her elbows to prod at him until he relents. “Okay, okay,” he agrees with a crooked smile, helping tug it the rest of the way off and dropping it on the floor.

She turns then, giving Ryan a better view, and Ryan’s gaze drops to her bare breasts and stays there.

“Huh,” he says, voice high and tight, and Shane reaches around Sara to give them a little jiggle.

Sara bats him away with a snort of amusement. “They got bigger when I had Charlie and then stayed that way.”

“I can see that,” Ryan admits softly, finding himself reaching out before he can stop himself, but Sara steps forward, closing the distance between them so he can actually settle his palms over her.

He gives them a gentle squeeze, just because he can, and thumbs at her nipples as she draws in an unsteady breath. It’s easy to dip down and get his mouth on one, worrying at it with his tongue as she tangles her fingers into his hair.

“Oh god,” she exhales and Shane moves up closer behind her, hands high on her waist like he knows she needs the support.

“Yeah, she likes that, Ry,” Shane encourages, beginning to kiss along her shoulder.

Ryan already knows from their previous hook-ups. He knows she likes her nipples teased, knows how she likes to be touched, to be fucked. He drags his teeth lightly against her and she shudders.

Shane reaches his hands around to the button of her jeans, popping it open with nimble fingers and pulling down her zipper. When he slips his hand down the front, Ryan wonders if she’s already wet enough for Shane’s fingers.

“Open your legs,” Shane murmurs, and Sara readjusts her stance, letting out a soft exhale. Ryan feels the moment Shane slips a finger into her because her hips buck forward and her head tips back. She’s still just as beautifully responsive as she used to be and Ryan moves his mouth to her other nipple.

“Jesus,” Sara moans. “This is gonna ruin me.”

“We’ll do our best,” Shane promises and Ryan’s pretty sure he gives her another finger because she arches a little further and makes a low noise. “How about we get you naked first.”

Ryan doesn’t like that he has to pull away, but he appreciates that it gives him the opportunity to watch her unabashedly. Shane pulls his hand from Sara’s jeans, licking his fingers, because he’s never not a menace, and carefully guides her backwards towards the bed. She sits on the edge of it while Shane drags her pants and underwear off in one long pull, and then she shifts to sprawl among the pile of pillows they have at the headboard.

She looks just like he remembers, but just a little time-worn. She has new stretch marks under her breasts and low on her stomach, and even lower is a long scar, most likely from a c-section. Ryan falls in love with everything immediately, a fondness growing inside him at the experiences she’s gone through and has clearly come out stronger from on the other side.

But then she lets her knees fall open and Ryan can’t think about anything other than the sudden need he has to crawl between them. He looks at Shane, who doesn’t notice immediately because he’s too busy watching Sara while palming at the front of his pants. Eventually, he glances over, already seeming to know what Ryan’s silently asking because he nods.

“Give her what she wants,” he says and Ryan doesn’t hesitate as he pulls his shirt off over his head and wriggles out of his pants.

As he crawls onto the bed, he can already see how wet she is and can’t wait to taste her. He kisses the inside of her knee and then slowly makes his way up her thigh with a mix of licks, nips, and kisses.

“_Ryan_,” she pleads and Ryan gives her what she wants, licking between her folds with an eagerness he hasn’t felt in a long time.

She arches against him, letting out a noise so needy it makes Ryan’s cock ache. He still remembers what she prefers, the pressure she likes against her clit, and he hopes that after years of practice, his skills have only improved. She pushes down onto his tongue and Ryan responds in kind.

The bed dips slightly, but he doesn’t lift his head, too caught up in what he’s doing. But he can hear Shane and Sara kissing, the gentle wetness of their mouths.

“_Fuck_,” Shane exhales eventually. “I’ve missed that view.”

Ryan finally looks up, catching Shane’s gaze. He seems a little slack around the jaw, like the sight is just too much. Ryan gives Sara a lascivious flick of his tongue and winks, both of them letting out quiet moans. Ryan thinks it’s all too easy.

When he slips a finger into Sara, she spreads her legs a little wider for him and grinds against his hand and mouth. She’s so wet it barely takes any effort to get her ready for another, and he curls both to give her something to tighten around.

“Ryan,” she begs quietly. “_Please_.”

He’s not entirely sure he knows what she’s asking for — maybe she doesn’t either — so he keeps the pressure on her, his tongue rubbing in tight circles. Shane presses a hand to her hip, his fingers long and enormous against her.

“You want him inside you?” Shane asks and Ryan reaches down with his other hand to touch himself as he twitches in his underwear.

Sara moans and bucks into Ryan’s touch. “You should fuck him,” she says and Shane makes a noise like maybe he’s entertaining the idea.

“Or both?” he says and Ryan gives Sara’s clit one last suck before pulling back.

“I’m still here,” he points out and they both look down at him fondly. “You could ask me what I want.”

“What do you want?” Shane asks and Ryan’s mind goes fuzzy with too many thoughts at once.

He glances between them. “Both is fine.”

Sara laughs and curls her fingers into his hair, tugging gently. “Get up here.”

When he goes, she kisses him easily, tongue flicking out to taste herself. He hovers over her on his hands and knees, gently rubbing himself on the slight pooch of her belly.

He startles at the feeling of hands at his waist, but quickly realizes it’s just Shane, his thumbs tucking under the elastic of Ryan's underwear and beginning to tug at them. He lifts his hips just enough for Shane to be able to slide them down, and then raises one knee and then the other so he can pull them the rest of the way off.

Ryan’s been out of the dating game for so long that he’s fallen out of habit of landscaping, but Shane doesn’t seem to care at all. He smooths his hands along Ryan’s slightly hairy ass and spreads him open with a quiet noise of satisfaction. He brushes over Ryan’s hole with a warm thumb and Ryan jerks against Sara, making her laugh again.

“Do you still like it as much as you used to?” Shane asks and Ryan grunts.

“It’s been a while,” he admits and Shane rubs him with his thumb again.

“Mm,” Shane agrees. “I’ll take it easy on you.”

He shifts away, rummaging in their nightstand, probably for lube, but Ryan goes back to kissing Sara because he’s never been able to resist her mouth. Her hands are soft on his face, framing it and keeping him close.

“Do you want to be inside her while I do this?” Shane asks, followed by the telltale click of the lube’s cap.

“Jesus,” Ryan murmurs against Sara’s lips. He can feel the slow spread of her grin. He turns to look over his shoulder at Shane, who wiggles wet fingers at him. Somethings never change. “Uhh…”

He thinks it might be his undoing, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it. He finds himself nodding mindlessly, and Shane smiles like that’s exactly what he wants too.

“Pillow,” Shane orders, and Ryan doesn’t know what he’s talking about until Sara reaches to the side and grabs one of the unused pillows beside them.

“Pillow,” she repeats, tossing it down towards him and Shane drags it closer with his clean hand.

“Get that under her hips,” he tells Ryan, who takes it and does just that, leaning back just enough to give Sara space to lift her waist and let him slide it beneath her. It puts her at the perfect position and he knows he could just reach down and guide himself inside.

Instead, he dips two fingers into her and then rubs at her clit with the wetness. She twitches and lets out a breathy moan that turns into a laugh.

“C’mon,” she says. “Waiting for an invitation?”

“I’m waiting for a condom.”

“She had her tubes tied when Charlie was delivered,” Shane says, his index finger already rubbing distractingly at Ryan’s hole.

“You don’t know where I’ve been,” Ryan retorts and Sara tilts her head.

“Where have you been?” she asks and Ryan thins his lips.

“I’m clean,” he admits, because it’s easier than saying he hasn’t actually been with anyone for over eight months. “But you guys shouldn’t assume.”

“If you want a condom, we can find one,” Shane says softly, clearly not looking for an argument as he rubs Ryan’s back with his free hand.

But the honest truth is that he’s never had unprotected sex with Sara before and now that it’s on the table, that’s all he wants.

“It’s fine,” he says and Sara shifts her gaze over his shoulder and he knows Shane is probably grinning like the asshole he is.

“C’mon then,” Sara encourages, giving a little wiggle of her hips, and it takes very little effort for Ryan to get himself lined up and comfortable before sliding inside.

She’s so soft and warm around him, and she makes little noises the deeper he gets, like the feeling of him stretching her is just what she’s been waiting for.

“_Oh_,” she says, breathless, “that’s just the way I remember it.”

He can’t help tucking his face against her shoulder, because he remembers it, too. It’s almost too much, too vivid and raw, a barely-faded bruise. But he has it again now, or at least something almost like it. She curls her arms around his back and Ryan focuses on making it good for her. He gets nice and deep, the way he knows she likes, and makes sure the angle rubs him against her clit.

He thinks it’s slightly unfair that Shane waits until a particularly deep thrust to slip his finger all the way inside.

“Oh my god,” Ryan gasps, leaning up and drawing a surprised laugh from Sara as he jostles her.

“Yeah?” Shane asks innocently, like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing.

“You _asshole_,” Ryan hisses, slowly moving again, using the rolling of his own hips to set the pace for all of them.

“No, _your_ asshole,” Shane corrects, crooking his finger and stealing his breath.

Ryan knows better than to encourage Shane, so instead, he dips down to kiss Sara, focusing on her because it’s easier. Shane mutters to himself behind — something about how Ryan wouldn’t know a good joke if it poked him in the ass — but he works on carefully stretching Ryan out, his fingers strong and sure.

He's always been good at taking Ryan apart — sexually and also not — and it’s like no time has passed between them.

“Is that good?” Shane asks and Ryan presses one last kiss to Sara’s mouth.

“What do you think?” he grunts.

“I’m asking _you_.”

Ryan traces his mouth along Sara’s jaw. “Yeah,” he sighs as Shane teases him with another finger. “Yeah, it’s good, Shane. Just — hurry up. Don’t be so gentle or I’ll come.”

Shane hums thoughtfully and gets his other finger inside him. It’s a tight fit but it pulls him helpfully away from the edge.

“Just keep fucking her,” Shane tells him, which is easier said than done. Especially when Shane finally gets a third finger into him a few minutes later.

Ryan’s panting, every part of his body sweating as he tries to hold himself back.

“I don’t think I’ll last,” he gets out between heavy breaths. “_Fuck_.”

“Wanna pull out until you’re ready to come?” Sara asks and Ryan uses his mouth to shut her up.

“Not helping,” he mumbles against her and she smiles and uses her teeth to tug at his bottom lip.

"There's no shame," she says and then clenches around him.

"_Sara_," he moans, pausing where's he's pushed into her as far as he can get. He's too close to the edge for comfort, but she's just grinning up at him like she already knows that. "You're such a dick."

She laughs and pulls him back towards her mouth.

"You ready?" Shane asks from behind and Ryan lets himself enjoy another of Sara's kisses before pulling back.

"Yeah," he says, "just — take it easy."

"Nothing but easy, baby," Shane jokes, but then he starts to press inside and Ryan thinks it's anything but. It’s so much and still not enough at the same time.

“_Fuck_,” he pants, tipping his head back and letting Shane press wet kisses along his throat.

“Want me to stop?” he murmurs, but keeps pressing in, gentle but insistent and Ryan shakes his head.

“No — keep going.”

Shane exhales against his skin and he’s dimly aware of Sara rubbing her palms down his chest.

“That’s it,” she whispers, eyes bright with interest. “Let him in.”

“I am,” Ryan gets out between deep breaths. “Don’t know what it is you think I’m doing here.”

Sara laughs and Shane drags his teeth along his jaw before pressing a kiss near his chin.

“You’re doing great,” Shane tells him, but it’s not condescending like Ryan thinks it should be. He bites back a moan and savors the feeling of Shane’s hips against his own, Shane finally as deep as he can get. “How’s this?”

Ryan breathes through it, his whole body tight with tension. He drops his head to Sara’s chest and exhales. “Why’d you gotta have such a huge fucking dick?”

When he starts laughing, Shane’s body jostles Ryan’s.

“Pot, kettle,” Sara says from below, giving a poignant squeeze around Ryan. Ryan grunts and lifts his head enough to glare half-heartedly at her. She grins at him and leans up as far as she can just to kiss him. “You boys thinking about moving anytime soon?”

Shane’s mouth trails up the back of Ryan’s neck. “I’m ready whenever Ryan is.”

Ryan lets out one last long breath and then nods. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

The first grind of Shane into him has him practically faceplanting onto Sara, who lets out a pained wheeze.

“Oh god, sorry,” Ryan apologizes, getting his elbows under himself to keep far enough off her that she can breathe. But Sara just laughs.

“The price I have to pay for two big boys.”

“Sara,” Shane complains. “We’re _men_.”

“What did I say?”

Ryan seriously doesn’t know how they’re able to keep teasing each other as Shane picks up the pace. He drops his forehead to Sara’s shoulder and shuts his eyes. He’s not going to last, he can already feel it. He’s not even really fucking Sara properly; he’s just letting his body move based on Shane’s gentle thrusts. Sara doesn’t complain, just slips a hand between them to get her fingers on her clit.

“You good?” Shane asks, one hand rubbing up Ryan’s back, but Ryan just grunts. “‘Cause you _feel_ good.”

“Shane,” Sara warns, and Ryan is briefly crushed under the weight of Shane as he leans down to kiss Sara over Ryan’s shoulder.

“You want me to fuck him deeper into you?” he asks, voice low and far too enticing for Ryan to deal with.

Shane doesn’t even wait for Sara’s response. He just picks up speed, his hips a little less cautious, causing Ryan to push further into Sara and drawing cut off moans from both of them.

“_Shit_,” Sara gasps, her hand speeding up, wrist brushing Ryan’s stomach.

She’s gradually tightening around him, but doesn’t say a word as she finally falls apart under him, coming with her head tipped back and mouth open wide in a silent yell.

Ryan finds himself bucking into her, wanting more of the warm wetness, and Shane presses in closer until Ryan can barely move, pushed deep inside of Sara while he’s fucked harder.

“Come inside Sara,” Shane tells him, like he has any other choice, but it’s what Ryan wants anyway and the thought is enough to help him follow Sara over the edge.

He lets out a deep groan, the sound muffled where he has his mouth pressed tightly to Sara’s shoulder. She cards her fingers through his hair and it feels like he keeps coming and coming as Shane never slows his pace, pushing him through it until he’s left gasping for breath, completely wrung out.

“Shane,” he pleads gently. “_Shane_.”

Shane finally pauses, breathing hard, one hand bruisingly tight on Ryan’s waist. “You okay?” he asks. “Too much?”

Ryan nods, unable to actually say anything, and Shane leans down, kissing the side of his jaw.

“C’mon,” Shane murmurs, pulling out while simultaneously dragging Ryan with him. The loss of everything — the warmth of Sara, the stretch of Shane — is sudden and palpable, but Shane carefully rolls him into the space beside Sara and kneels between Sara’s legs in his stead.

Sara throws an arm out, drawing Ryan closer as he catches his breath, and Ryan carefully curls against her side, not wanting to miss a second of whatever it is Shane’s planning.

But Shane just starts jerking himself off, the lube already on his cock slicking his movements until his hand is a blur. It sounds so wet and vulgar, but Ryan can’t look away.

“Spread yourself for me,” Shane orders and Ryan makes the mistake of looking down because his cock throbs painfully at the sight of Sara sliding her legs further apart and holding herself open with wet fingers.

Shane’s gaze stays fixated between her legs, where Ryan knows Sara’s fucked open and probably starting to leak come. Shane’s breath is harsh in the silence, which makes it easier to hear exactly when he starts to lose control, his fist speeding up even more.

“C’mon, Shane,” Sara encourages. “Make a mess of me.”

Shane grunts loudly, buckling slightly at the waist as he comes so hard that he manages to get some all the way up between Sara’s breasts. They jiggle slightly as she laughs, and she swipes at it with a couple of fingers before holding them up towards Shane. Shane doesn’t even hesitate before letting them slip into his mouth where he sucks them clean.

Ryan lets out a heavy breath and rolls onto his back. “You’re going to kill me.”

“Don’t die yet,” Shane says, leaning down to give Sara a quick kiss and pull the pillow out from beneath her hips, tossing it across the room. “We have plans for you.”

“What kind of plans?” Ryan asks and Shane hums thoughtfully.

“Sexy plans,” he says, shifting to one side to let Sara stretch out her legs. She rests her feet in his lap and props herself up against the headboard with a couple of other pillows. They share a look and then Sara rolls onto her side to watch Ryan.

“How long are you in town for?” she asks and Ryan takes an unsteady breath. Their come hasn’t even cooled between her thighs and she’s on the attack.

“Sara,” he says quietly and she manages to lean into his space for a kiss that’s soft, like she wants to do right by him.

“I just want to figure some things out,” she admits and Shane scoffs quietly.

“She wants to convince you to stay,” he says and though Sara shoots him a look, she doesn’t try to argue.

“The night?” Ryan asks and Sara shrugs loosely.

“And for as long as you’ll let me keep you,” she says.

Ryan rubs a hand over his face, his heart picking up speed. When he looks up, he catches Shane’s gaze. “What about you?”

“I’m already letting her keep me,” he jokes, raising his left hand. “She put a ring on it.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” Shane agrees, his hand finding Ryan’s ankle. “I know. I want to keep you, too.”

_We can do this_, he thinks, not for the first time. They can try again and do it right this time.

“I’m here until December,” he admits and Sara makes a slightly distressed noise.

“Ryan, you said you were only here for a couple of months. You can’t stay in a hotel until December.”

“Work’s paying for it,” he tells her. “I didn’t really want to get an apartment.”

“We have a guest room,” she says, holding up her hand when Ryan opens his mouth to try arguing. “You don’t have to cancel your hotel room, but you’re welcome to stay here as much or as little as you want.”

_I might never leave_, Ryan doesn’t say. Instead, he says, “I don’t want it to be weird for Charlie.”

Shane laughs softly and shakes his head. “Are you kidding me? She already loves you. She’d think her birthday had come early.”

“We can tell her why you’re staying here,” Sara says and Ryan’s heart feels too big for his chest.

“Maybe not right away,” he replies carefully, and Sara smiles like she understands.

“Sure; we can wait as long as you need.”

“We’re drawing the line at ten years, though,” Shane adds and Ryan finds himself laughing unexpectedly.

“You need to stop using that as your argument,” he complains and the corner of Shane’s mouth curls up like he can’t help it. 

“But it’s made you laugh every time.” He squeezes Ryan’s ankle where he’s still touching it and Ryan fills with warmth.

“Sara,” Ryan tries, but Shane shakes his head.

“There are no secret alliances in this house,” he says. “All for one and one for all.”

“Except for when Charlie decides she doesn't want to clean the litter box and you form the Cool Dad club to help her get out of chores?” She gives Shane a pointed look and Ryan grins. “Debate amongst yourselves; I’m going to shower.”

She swings her legs over the edge of the bed and heads towards the bathroom. There’s a wetness down the inside of her thighs that reminds Ryan _exactly_ what they’ve just done and when Sara leaves the door open behind her, he spares a glance at Shane.

“How big is your shower?” he asks and Shane hums thoughtfully.

“It’s _definitely_ big enough for two. We could trade out.”

Ryan nods in agreement, listening to the sound of the faucet turning on. “Yeah, okay. Guests go first, right?”

“We’ll figure it out as we go,” Shane tells him with a small smile and Ryan doesn’t think he’s just talking about the shower.

Ryan grins and lets him lead the way to the bathroom, feeling like maybe things will be just fine after all.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to share feelings, you can also find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/blacktofade) and [Tumblr](http://blacktofade.tumblr.com/).


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